img_1866.jpgHues of pinks dusted the branches,

As the dusk melted into a moonless night,


Tiny buds unfurled their blossoms,

As the soil shimmered under the starlight


Moonshine sprinkled on the blooms,

As the enchantment weaved in flight.


The earth spun on its edge in joy,

As the apple blossoms glowed bright.


Like pearls, they blushed and twinkled,

As they demured under a touch so slight.


The sun shined brighter by the day

As honeyed petals glided featherlight.


Like moondrops on a carpet of green,

They never failed to arouse delight.

I lost track of the number of apple blossoms I saw during my Kashmir trip, each more enchanting than the next. An ode to the happiness!


25 thoughts on “Moondrops

  1. Conjures up wonderful images, but I have to question “Moonshine sprinkled on the blooms,” where earlier “As the dusk melted into a moonless night,” Perhaps I just think too much? πŸ™‚


    • My word! Can’t believe you picked that πŸ™‚ The background here is actually what triggered this poem. When I saw them, they literally had a glow – almost like they kept absorbing the moonshine during the night and radiated it during the day πŸ™‚ Thank you!


  2. This is so beautiful πŸ™‚ Very vivid in description of the beauty of apples πŸ™‚ I have never seen an apple orchard but I can imagine from your poetry how it looks πŸ™‚


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